Just in Case
by Ellery Grey
Summary: "Well, maybe if it rains sleeping bags, you'll get lucky."  Post Detour.


Fox Mulder covertly eyed his partner from across the small office they shared for what had to be the millionth time that afternoon. It certainly wasn't unusual for him to sneak a peek at her several times during the work day, stealing a glimpse here and there when he was sure she wouldn't notice. 'It's not my fault she so god-damned beautiful,' he continually justified to himself. What made this particular afternoon's glances so odd was the feeling of suspicion that his partner had brought upon herself, and the cool demeanor she was presenting in light of the circumstances.

Dana Scully was a terrible liar. Mulder suspected that, like any good, God-fearing Irish-Catholic girl, she always had been. Other than to claim she was 'fine' when she obviously wasn't, she had never told so much as a single, solitary, little white lie to him, so he was a bit unsure as to how to respond to the behavior she was exhibiting. He had returned from the lunch hour to find her milling about in the back room, what he generally thought of as 'her' area, where they kept small evidence packets, his slideshow equipment, other miscellaneous office items, and a small desk where she could prop up her laptop and find a quiet space to work if needed.

He had thought he'd made enough noise to alert her of his presence when he had opened the main door to their office, so he was almost as startled at her reaction to him as she had been to see him.

"Hey," he had offered simply, popping his head into the small section of the room. She had been walking back into the main office, peeking behind her, so she hadn't seen him yet. She whirled around at the sound of his voice and nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus, Mulder." She stated breathlessly, bringing her right hand up to cover her heart and closing her eyes, stopping to calm her nerves. "You startled me." She looked for all the world like she had been caught red-handed. Doing what, was the question.

"Yeah," he had said matter-of-factly. "I can see that. Sorry, I thought you heard me come in. What are you working on back here?" It wasn't an odd question. She hardly ever used the area, only retreating to its confines during difficult cases that either required her medical insight or his psychological profiling. They had something of a silent agreement between them that when one side or the other was becoming too intense, they would utilize the extra space in order to stay out of the other's way. In all reality, they tended to work better together, so storage the room had mainly become.

"Nothing, I was just umm," she had stammered, avoiding his eyes, "just looking for some paperwork." She had nonchalantly pushed by him and gone straight to the filing cabinet to pull out the report she had been working on before he had taken his lunch.

He knew immediately that she was lying. Could hear it in her voice and see it in her face. His first instinct was to call her out, to press the issue and get answers from her, but he very quickly decided to bide his time. There was something in her demeanor, however, that told him it wasn't a malicious lie. He trusted her beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he knew she would never lie to him to hurt him or hide anything important from him. He had the distinct feeling that the ever-enigmatic Special Agent Dr. Dana Scully was up to something.

So, believing she'd confess the truth when she was ready, he let it slide. He'd learned from experience that pressing Dana Scully for information before she was ready to divulge it would only end up making things worse. Two hours later, he was still sitting at his desk, replaying the events of the encounter over and over in his mind and trying to decipher it to the point of insanity. He'd known from the day she walked into his office that Dana Scully would drive him to the brink, one way or another, he just never considered it happening this way. He ran through every possible scenario he could think of. Had she found another one of those tapes that 'weren't his?' Perhaps she was trying to be discreet while putting it back in the drawer with the collection that also 'wasn't his.' As far as he knew, there weren't any birthdays or important dates he had forgotten about, and the only thing remotely interesting that had passed across his desk in the last ten days was a case dealing with the occult- far removed from anything Scully would specialize in or need to be secretive about. He briefly panicked at the thought that perhaps her doctor had called to tell her that her cancer, which had just gone into remission, had returned. He quickly reasoned with himself, however, that she would have told him something that serious. He hoped, at least.

He fought the urge to chew on the tip of his pencil as he pondered, and instead pulled out his trusty bag of sunflower seeds as he read over the occult case, trying desperately to stop glancing over at Scully long enough to focus on the details and make notes to add to his research. And failing miserably.

Dana Scully was nervous as hell. Her heart was beating like a jackhammer in her chest and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on her hairline. She could hardly hold her pen steady as she jotted down notes on the open case file in front of her. She could practically feel her partner staring at her in the small enclosure that was their office. Every few minutes, she had to will herself to breathe slowly and evenly in an effort to appear calm and collected.

Fox Mulder had caught her red-handed. Or might as well have. When he had appeared in the large entryway to the back section of the office, she knew she'd been had. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't heard him come in, in fact had stopped checking the clock in anticipation of his return from lunch.

She was a terrible liar, and she knew that he knew it. She also knew she was taking a big chance. When the idea had come to her a couple weeks ago, she had found it funny, but she had pushed the thought aside. There was no way she could follow through with it. Sure, Mulder threw innuendo around the way most people made small talk, but his comments were harmless jokes. This? Well, this was going a bit beyond teasing and waggling eyebrows, so she had resolved to forget about it and move on.

Her plan had worked. For all of twenty minutes. A small voice in the back of her mind kept nagging at her to go for it. The same small voice that had emerged once her cancer had gone into remission, the one that kept encouraging her to take this second chance at life and run with it. The one that demanded she let go of her insecurities and not let fear hold her back.

So, she had gone out an bought the damed thing. Mulder's birthday had been a couple months ago now, but they had never been a pair to celebrate birthdays on time, or even at all most years. This year, she had been too sick to do anything about it, but she figured, in keeping with their tradition, it was better late than never.

It had sat, unwrapped, in the trunk of her car for a good solid week while she weighed the pros and cons of giving it to him. Would he get the joke? Would he misinterpret it? Was she even sure what she was trying to tell him by giving it to him? Was it even a joke? She had wrestled with the endless stream of questions nearly all of her waking hours before she finally gave into the small voice once again, and decided to give Mulder his gift. She would let him decide for himself how to react to it, and would base her own reaction off of his.

They'd had a slow week, and with no pending cases on the horizon, it was making for an even slower Friday, so she had decided to make her move when he had gone out for lunch. She retrieved the big bundle from her trunk, now cleverly wrapped, and lugged it down to the basement office, all the while trying to turn off the small voice that kept telling her there was no going back now. She had decided to hide it in the back section of the office, somewhere he wouldn't see it, just in case she changed her mind at the last minute.

As she sat with a case report in front of her, she tried to ignore both Mulder's crunching of his sunflower seeds and the incessant ticking of the clock simultaneously. It was a futile attempt to get anything done, and the longer she sat, the more nervous she became. Finally, she decided to call it a day.

With a heavy sigh, she closed the report and set it down on the desk. "If you don't mind, Mulder, I think I'll head out a bit early today." She was sure her heart was going to pound out of her chest at any moment, so she was surprised at how calm and collected her voice was.

Her partner looked up at her from his notepad, eyeing her cautiously. "Go for it," he answered her, leaning back in his chair and placing his interlaced hands, still holding onto his pencil, behind his head. She could tell from the tone of his voice and his demeanor that he was expecting an explanation for her strange behavior, but was not going to press her for one. "Have a good weekend," he added, giving her a small smile.

"Thanks," she tossed over her shoulder as she packed up her things. She was beginning to feel incredibly guilty, almost washing away her nervousness. As she reached for the door handle to head home, she turned to look at her partner. It was now or never.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"I uh, I know my timing's a little off, but there's a nicely-wrapped birthday present for you, sitting under my desk." She was having a hard time looking him in the eyes, but she held his gaze and offered him a small smile of her own. He quirked his head and a look of pure curiosity and amusement crossed his features. She could tell she had really caught him off guard, and from the way he was looking at her, he was surprised. Before he could say anything, she made her exit with a "see ya Monday." She closed the door behind her and had to force herself to walk, not run, to her car.

He had hardly waited until the door was completely shut before launching himself out of his chair. As he entered the back office area, he carefully scanned the area under Scully's desk. Sure enough, there sat a carefully wrapped, albeit somewhat large, package. It looked like a large, black plastic trash bag ,filled to the max, and tied at the top with a blue bow. Tucked under the ribbon was a white envelope with her distinct printing on it. 'Mulder,' it read. He couldn't stop smiling, but he remained puzzled.

"What on earth?" he wondered aloud, tearing open the card.

'M-

Next time you want to take me on a nice trip to the forest, bring this with you. Just in case.

-S'

Curious, confused, and wondering just what the hell had gotten into her, he set the card down and ripped open the bag. There, in his hands, he held what had to be the best birthday present he'd ever received. He couldn't stop the large, joyful grin from spreading across his entire face, anymore than he could stop from wondering what she was trying to tell him. All he could do was stare at it:

A thick, cozy, bright blue sleeping bag.


End file.
